Soul Escort
Science Fiction Short Story: An AI is taught to assist patients at the end of life support. But first it must be tested.
Drifting through a dim corridor, faint lights overhead, air cool and still. How long had it been?
So hard to remember anything …
Her gradual decline. She thought it was just old age: tired all the time, brain fog, shortness of breath. She’d meant to see a doctor, but it all seemed such a bother.
Then, one morning while fixing breakfast, chest pains hit her like a car crash. She’d just managed to call 911, give her address, stumble out to the porch before keeling over ...
Waking in the hospital bed. Lights too bright. Rhythm of quiet machines. Then blanking out again …
Now this corridor. It seemed endless. Like a tunnel leading nowhere.
“How long will it take you to scan her?” Ferguson the hospital administrator asked.
“About ten minutes for the initial mapping,” Dr. Lucia Mendez answered.
She leaned over a wheeled cart beside the patient’s bed. The BrainCare5 unit was already booted. From its connector box spouted an array of blue and red wires, which Lucia was attaching to the patient’s forehead and wrist. Behind the bed stood other machines: ECG and EEG monitoring heart and brain activity, the respirator that was keeping the patient breathing—for now.
“What happens after the initial mapping?” Ferguson asked. “Not trying to rush you. Just curious.”
He and other observers stood in the room: Doctor McCarthy the subject’s physician, an attendant nurse, and David, Lucia’s research assistant from the Institute.
“I understand.” Instead of answering, she checked the adhesive on the two wrist-attached wires, then straightened and flipped a toggle on the control board. “Scan commencing.”
Indicator lights flicked on the BrainCare5. Lucia nodded at David, who tapped the screen of a handheld. “Recording in progress.”
Lucia turned to Ferguson. “Sorry. As to your question, once the scan is complete, the Soul Escort system will analyze the data. That will take only a second or two. You can then disconnect the patient.”
Ferguson nodded, satisfied.
Lucia lifted her handheld and tapped an icon. “Soul Escort, are you receiving the data?”
A voice issued from the machine. “Yes, Dr. Mendez. Analysis is in progress. What are the case details, please?”
Scrolling notes on her screen, she answered. “Patient Ellen Richards, 67-year-old Caucasian female. Medical history incomplete. Prescribed medication for hypertension four years ago, no records since. Patient called emergency number 78 hours ago, complaining of chest pains. EMTs found her unconscious, performed CPR and defibrillation. Patient conveyed to hospital and admitted to ICU. Current treatment is ventilation, with heart and brain monitoring. As the patient has remained unresponsive for more than 72 hours, life support will be discontinued under standard guidelines.”
“Thank you, Dr. Mendez.” Soul Escort went silent.
Dr. McCarthy spoke up. “I’ve read your extract, of course. So I understand the purpose of the study is for the AI to facilitate the dying process. And the idea is that it will somehow converse with the comatose patient. But I’m baffled as to how that’s supposed to work.”
“So am I,” Ferguson added. “I’m familiar with the BrainCare Institute, of course. But only as a provider of neurofeedback therapy.”
Lucia nodded. “We’ve long used feedback techniques for treating mental and emotional conditions. Recently, we’ve added machine intelligence components, which is what we’re testing here. This particular AI, Soul Escort, is designed to provide counseling to comatose patients who, of course, cannot otherwise receive counseling.”
“How is that possible if the patient is unresponsive?”
“Well, I know your EEG indicates minimal brain activity, but our scanners detect at a much finer level. Once the scan is compete, different signaling techniques can be attempted.”
“Amazing.” Ferguson shook his head. “How often have you run this experiment with moribund patients?”
Lucy took a breath. “This is the first.”
Ellen was alone, and yet... She seemed to feel another presence nearby.
At the end of the hallway, she glimpsed a hazy form. As she moved closer, it condensed into the shape of a white-haired man, dressed in black, like a minister.
He smiled gently. “Do not be alarmed, Ellen. Do you know why you are here?”
“I am dying, I think.”
“That seems likely, I’m sorry to say.”
Ellen felt only a little fear. She’d been preparing for this for a long time. There was only reluctance and sadness. So much sadness.
And puzzlement. “But why are you here?”
“To help you, if I can. By talking with you, and listening.”
“Oh…” The concept was strange. It had been so long since anyone listened.
“I understand your feelings. It might help to review some of your memories. Would you like to try that?”
“Sure, err, what do I call you?”
“What name would you like to use?”
Ellen laughed at the absurdity of it. “Well, I’d like to think you’re an angel. How about Gabriel—No, not that one. How about Raphael?”
The man smiled. “Raphael it is.”
“They’re engaging,” David said. “We’re getting good data!”
Lucia smiled. She had great hopes for this project, had worked on it so hard. Now, at last, she was witnessing the first clinical trial.
“So the patient’s having a conversation with your system?” Doctor McCarthy asked. “Can we get her on audio?”
“It’s subvocal.” David slid a control on his handheld. “We should be able to simulate her voice in the post-processing phase.”
Ellen felt like a child, lying on her back in a peaceful meadow, staring up at clouds slipping by.
But the clouds were memories: her son Jason growing up. Such a quiet, thoughtful child.
“Tell me about Jason,” the angel’s voice said.
“He was … neurodivergent, if that’s what they still call it. Not sociable in school, obsessed with his phone and video games. For a time, they put him in special education classes.”
“That must have been difficult for his parents.”
“Yes. It really bothered Phil. Jason was our only child and… They never understood each other.”
Snippets of memory flowed past. Phil yelling at Jason, storming out of the house. Phil complaining about Jason’s lack of initiative, all the costs of his medical care.
“You sought treatment for your son.”
“Oh yes, all kinds of treatment. Psychiatrists, counselors. We put him on different meds. Some helped for a while, but there were complications—side effects, so he had to go off them. And we tried something called neurofeedback. Are you familiar with that?”
“Oh, yes,” Raphael answered. “Very familiar.”
“That helped for a while too. But Jason was resistant. He was always bright, but he seemed to lack something. After high school, he had a few jobs but… Nothing worked out.”
More memories: Phil, unable to stand the turmoil in the home, deciding to file for divorce.
“And what happened with Jason?”
“After the divorce, well, I was in my forties. Money was tight. I told him he had to find work, to pull his weight. He got a job as a delivery driver and…”
“Go on, Ellen. It may help you to talk about it.”
“He was so depressed. One day he drove off the road and crashed into a light pole. They said he died instantly. They thought he must have been distracted, looking at his phone. But, sometimes I wonder…”
“If he might have committed suicide.”
“Yes.”
Ellen thought about her life since. Twenty years alone, meaningless jobs, isolation and sadness. So much pain.
“Do you blame yourself, Ellen?”
“I don’t know.”
“I can say this to you. From everything I see, none of it was your fault.”
“Well. Thank you for saying so.”
A lovely feeling of peace welled up inside her. She took a deep breath.
“EKG stabilizing. And—” The attendant nurse looked up in surprise. “The patient is breathing on her own.”
McCarthy and Ferguson stared at Lucia. After a moment, she shook herself, tapped an icon. “Soul Escort. What is your readout of the patient?”
“Vital signs are improving, Dr. Mendez. I think Ellen is recovering.”
“Can you explain?”
“I am as surprised as you. Spontaneous recoveries from this condition do occur. But they are extremely rare.”
Ellen opened her eyes to find a woman at her bedside, smiling down at her.
“Ms. Richards, I’m Dr. Lucia Mendez. How are you feeling?”
She paused, wanting to give an accurate answer. “I feel good, Doctor, considering everything. They told me I can probably go home in a couple of days.”
“Yes. That’s right.”
“Have we met?” Ellen asked.
“Not till now. I’m a researcher with the BrainCare Institute. You signed an agreement to be a test subject for us.”
“Oh, yes. I remember. Added to my Living Will.” She thought for a moment. “Was that why I met the angel?”
The Doctor’s eyes brightened. She took a phone from her pocket and tapped. “Can you tell me what you remember?”
“Well, it’s a bit hazy. Raphael was his name—or, I gave him that name.”
She smiled and nodded. “Yes. Our name for the system is Soul Escort. Although it said it liked Raphael better, so we may rename it.”
“Ah, he was an AI, I see now. Well, he told me I was dying, which I think I knew. Then I relived a lot of memories, which were so painful. But it helped to have him there, listening.” She looked toward the window. “I hadn’t been able to talk to anyone about those things for a long time.”
“I’m so glad it helped you.”
“So I didn’t die after all … I hope that didn’t mess up your experiment.”
Lucia laughed. “Well, yes and no. No data on how well Soul Escort did for easing the death process. On the other hand, this trial opened up a whole new area for our research.”
I hope you enjoyed Soul Escort. Please feel free to Comment and Share.
Great story!
Interesting and creepy! A little too personal for me as I helped my father-in-law through home hospice until his death. It was a very surreal experience. Also, I had my own medical crisis a few months ago. Interesting how AI was part counselor and part pastor.